A/N: I've had the idea for this fic in my head for some time, and kind of hinted at the problem in more than one installment of the series. But I could never quite get to the root of it. Hopefully I did it justice. I also wanted to show that Tifa is in no way submissive in this relationship and has no trouble taking a bite out of him when she's hungry... LOL...

Chapter Summary: And now to answer the question of just why our dear Chocobo-head prefers not to be shirtless. Some humor, a few chuckles, and a serious conversation that hopeful shows Cloud really is healing, and learning to open up and share what is inside him...

Jealousy, Take 17

Ivy Elise Tanté

"Cloud," Tifa Lockhart started softly.

She and Cloud Strife were sitting together at a table in her bar, Seventh Heaven. Though the sun was bright and brilliant outside, within the room it was cool and a little dim. The bar wouldn't open for a few more hours and they were trying to plow their way through the receipts, invoices, ordering forms and other various pieces of tiresome paperwork that always seemed to multiply like rabbits overnight.

A soft grunt was his only reply, his mind deep in the morass of shipping schedules for Corel wines.

Reaching out, she laid a hand on his wrist to be sure she had his attention. Tifa knew he hadn't really heard her when he jerked slightly, raising eyes blurred with figures and sums to meet hers.

"What? I'm sorry, did you say something?" His voice sounded a bit rusty, like he needed something to drink. When he picked up the coffee cup at his side he grimaced, meaning it had gone cold while his concentration was elsewhere.

The laugh bubbled up so easily it amazed her. Since when had she stopped being careful of every word, every gesture, every expression? Tifa wasn't sure but was pleased to find herself relaxed and content as she took the mug from him and rose from her chair. Crossing over to the bar, she poured out the cold coffee and refilled it with fresh hot brew from the pot simmering and returned it to him.

"Yes, I said something." Sitting back down, she propped her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist and just contemplated him for a long minute.

It said much about their relationship now that he simply sipped his coffee and didn't try to avoid her gaze. In the dim lighting of the room, the soft glow of his ocean blue eyes was more noticeable than usual, and the tiny scar cutting through his left eyebrow -compliments of Yazoo when he shot the driving goggles off Cloud's face nearly a year ago- seemed little more than a white line against his pale skin.

As always, it took concentrated effort to drag her thoughts back when they wandered in regards to Cloud. The man, thankfully, didn't fully comprehend how devastating his looks and quiet demeanor were to her system. Heaven help any woman within the known world whenever he finally clued in.

"I was wondering something," she murmured when his arched eyebrow recalled her to the present.

"And?" he asked, imitating her pose. He did it teasingly enough to make her laugh again.

"Oh, Cloud." Giggling, she leaned forward and asked him, "Do you remember the time you saved Reeve Tuesti from that pack of Kalm Fangs, and a Midgar Zolom slithered in to hit the both of you with Beta?"

Rolling those gem-like eyes in exasperation, Cloud confirmed his recall of the event was undimmed. "Darn critter fried every leather strap on my pauldron and dust skirt, and turned my shirt into tattered charcoal. Then one of the Kalm Fangs opened up my shoulder." One hand rose to touch his left shoulder as if to reassure himself the injury was far in the past. "The rest is a blur, though. I know Reeve managed to get us back to the bar somehow, but I don't think I regained consciousness until the next day."

Sternly suppressing the chuckle that wanted to escape, Tifa shook her head. "You did come to briefly while Reeve and I were cleaning you up." She touched the side of his face as she continued, "You told me it hurt, and I was hunting for the painkillers in the first aid kit. You kept shaking your head no to them. Then you asked for a kiss."

Cloud's eyes went wide. He had never been one for public displays of affection due to the almost crippling shyness he still suffered from. He was learning that he didn't have to be so self-conscious, that a few kisses and hugs weren't anything to be ashamed of, but to hear he had actually asked her right out in the open was shocking.

The smile she gave him was warm, tinged with that sweetness that was such an integral part of her personality. "You told me afterwards, Best drug in the world, Lockhart."

Blushing, he coughed before snatching up his mug and scalding his tongue by taking a big gulp of coffee. After a moment, however, he gave a soft laugh and guessed, "I suppose you didn't tell me this so I could apologize for being so forward?"

"No, nothing like that." She toyed with one of the invoices before gathering the courage to ask him, "Why are you so embarrassed about being seen without a shirt?" He blinked in surprise at the question, and she charged forward by explaining, "I had to cut off what remained of your shirt to treat the wounds, and I was mentally squirming the entire time, knowing how you would feel if you were conscious. I even made the mistake of mentioning it to Reeve and he was so amused by it. He told me later than many of his female employees that were in the bar during the event were still making dreamy comments over you weeks after it happened."

Something in his eyes changed, became cool and distant as he leaned away from her. The withdrawal was swift but not unexpected. Tifa knew that whatever the cause, it had roots deep within that needed to be yanked out. The only regret she felt about the situation was that it would cause him pain.

Then he unexpectedly sighed and took hold of her hand. It so surprised her that she could only stare at him in wonder as he managed a small smile. A small, sickly, rather wan smile, but one all the same.

"Tifa..." he breathed out, raising her hand to his lips so he could press a kiss against her fingers. Then he released her completely to stand and walk over to the picture window. "I've... done a lot of soul searching since Denzel's school project. That last picture he posted... it was so stark, made what I am so obvious." He turned to meet her eyes squarely. "And no one was repulsed over it. I didn't hear a single negative comment about the scars dug into my body, about the glow of my eyes." He stepped forward, those incredibly blue eyes blazing with a fire that had nothing to do with the mako flowing through him. "And it made me think. Ever since our time in the Lifestream, when I realized so many of the memories I thought my own were Zack's, I've seen myself as nothing more than a pale echo of the man he was, Tifa. His loyalty, his generosity, his fierce desire to protect what he held dear - he wanted me to live out both our lives. I was his living legacy, the proof that he existed. And right up until that damn picture I felt I had failed miserably."

"Cloud..." Tifa tried to reassure him all he said wasn't true, but he held up a hand and she stopped speaking. Cloud so rarely talked -about anything, really- that the fact he had more to say was almost a shock.

Pacing back and forth seemed to calm his anxieties because she could see his shoulders relax just a bit. "Failure is a problem with me. If things don't go as I deem they should, I take on blame, even if I'm not at fault. Aerith's death." And he said that firmly in a manner so unlike usual. "I've blamed myself for years over the fact I couldn't save her. But I wasn't the only one present at that time, and I have never even considered transferring any of the guilt I felt towards them. They were just as helpless as I was in that situation. When she spoke to me, on the way to the City of the Ancients to rescue Denzel, she asked me what I wanted. I said I wanted to be forgiven." He knelt beside her and took her hand again. "And she asked me by who, like she didn't think there was anything she needed to forgive me for. It took a long time for that to penetrate this overly-thick skull of mine."

Unable to help herself, Tifa combed the fingers of her free hand through his unruly hair and laughed. "It is pretty rock hard, Strife."

"You would be the expert on that, considering you've been hammering at it for years now."

The joke had the laughter rippling out, and she gave the sunlight locks a good tug to bring his mouth level with hers. Kissing him was always such a thrill - his taste, combined with the scent of his hair and skin, was potent enough to muddle her mind and weaken her knees. Her only saving grace was that he wasn't, yet, aware of it. Or at least aware of it enough to know how to take advantage of it.

When she released him, his shy smile was enough to light up the room. "So... what were we talking about?" he teased.

"Cloud!" she huffed in seeming exasperation.

"Oh, right. The shirt." So saying, he yanked his off and tossed it across the room.

All of a sudden the usually cool air inside the bar went steaming hot. And there was nothing in this world that could stop her hands from reaching out to run reverent fingers over his shoulders and down his arms. He couldn't have anything as mundane as a six-pack, oh no. No, the man had eight-pack abs that made her head go light and all will power fade. But she saw there was a trace of a smile on Cloud's face, along with a certain glint in the too-blue eyes, that hinted he wasn't as unaware as she might wish him to be.

Taking hold of her wrists, he pressed her hands against the largest of his scars - were the Masamune had pierced him twice in the past. "I thought they were hideous, these marks. And those on my back from where Hojo did the SOLDIER enhancements as well. But more, I thought that when people saw them they would pity me, and make comments like, Those look so painful or just that knee-jerk, Ouch! Bet that hurt! Or worse even yet, Yuck! Cover that up with a shirt, will you? That's what was always going through my mind whenever the urge to strip to the waist occurred."

Though his comments were humorous, Tifa couldn't find it within herself to smile. She understood now that the marks were just the tangible evidence of what he had been through, and just one more way to prove he was different and set apart from everyone else. "But you don't feel that way anymore?" she guessed, hope in her eyes.

"No. Standing in the gym that day, hearing everyone talking about how that dishwasher was toast, or that I dared to use a good hand towel as a bar rag just like any other clueless man, made me realize I've got more things to worry about that a few lines on my skin. Apparently I have the same inherent flaws all males are guilty of and I'm helpless to do anything about them because of my gender." He grinned at her soft laugh, then turned serious again. "But it also made me acknowledge that these scars are proof that I lived, that I existed, that I've fought for what I believe is right. I'm not a pale echo of Zack at all. I'm here to tell the world of his sacrifice so he will always be remembered."

Tears threatened, but Tifa forced them back while swallowing the lump in her throat. His words rang in the stillness of the room and they spoke of courage, loyalty and that fierce will to protect all that he held dear.

Zack Fair had become Cloud's inspiration instead yet another reason to despair over his inadequateness.

Hiccupping in an effort not to break down in tears, Tifa tried to joke a bit to relieve the tension. "So, this means the next time Marlene and I take on you and Denzel in volleyball, it will be skins versus shirts?"

"No," Cloud said, eyes twinkling as he rose and walked to the bar, taking down the bottle of Corel wine they both preferred.

Tifa's eyebrows furrowed at the negative reply. "And why not, I would like to know?" she rapped out, not at all appeased by the glass Cloud handed her. The thought of all those women hanging around the edges of the lot, drooling uncontrollably while he twisted and flexed to return the ball over the net amused her.

Then her breath backed into her throat when Cloud leaned in close and whispered throatily, "I would give me an unfair advantage, since you couldn't help but stare at me."

Now it was Tifa's turn to sit there with wide eyes while Cloud smiled at her knowingly. "And how do you know I would stare at you?"

The haughtiness of the reply was off-set when Cloud snapped his fingers and brought her gaze back up from his chest. "Like you're doing now?"

Infuriated at her own weakness, she tapped her fingers on the tabletop as she stared at anything in the room other than Cloud, then contemplated her wine glass sitting on the table with narrowed eyes as an idea came to her. There were other... uses for the deep red liquid, after all. The wicked grin that appeared at the thought had Cloud bobbling his own wine, causing a few drops to splatter on his hand.

"So, you've finally become aware of just how attractive you are to me, have you?" she purred, not as disappointed as she thought she would be.

"Ah... yes?" he guessed, giving her that adorable deer-in-the-headlights look that made him seem so young and innocent.

Seem was the opportune word in that sentence, of course. Cloud might have been denied the learning experience of the formidable teenage years because of Hojo's experimentation, but with the advancement of their relationship, those sweet and tender edges had taken a battering.

"Well, I guess I can't hold off any longer, then." With that loaded statement she pounced, knocking him out of his chair and onto the tiled floor.

Where she proceeded to continue his education as to just how devastating wine could be when licked from bare skin...